


a little unsteady

by everythingsace



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex Mercer's Parents Are Homophobic (Julie and The Phantoms), Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Domestic Violence, Dyslexic Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Protective Alex Mercer (Julie and The Phantoms), Protective Bobby | Trevor Wilson, Protective Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), and the graphic violence tag too, it's not a pattern it's one instance but thats why im tagging it as this, like its not really graphic but i'd rather be safe than sorry, oh and someone uses a homophobic slur, so warning for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29455629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingsace/pseuds/everythingsace
Summary: Tonight was one of those nights, and he took the bottom edges of his flannel and clenched his fists around them so they would stop shaking. He blasted Green Day, trying to ignore the vibrations of shouts and slamming doors through the wall. He closed his eyes, imagining he was somewhere else - practicing with his friends, playing a real concert venue, going on tour and performing with Billie Joe Armstrong.Anywhere but here.(Or: Slowly but surely, the other members of Sunset Curve piece together what exactly Reggie's home life looks like. It isn't pretty.)
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Reggie Peters, Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Reggie Peters, Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters
Comments: 35
Kudos: 160





	a little unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for proofreading this, Moony!!! ily
> 
> The title is from Unsteady by X Ambassadors!

Reggie of course knew that things weren’t okay with his parents. He’d have to be pretty obtuse to not notice the arguing that took place every night behind doors, whether they were open or closed - and despite what people thought, he wasn’t actually an idiot.

Sometimes, he wondered if he needed to convince his parents of that fact, because they sure didn’t bother to hide any of their ire towards each other, nor did they avoid talking about their issues with  _ him. _

He was sick and tired of hearing about his grades, about his parent-teacher meetings, about his shitty test scores, about his band, about his annoying habits, about how he wasn’t like other boys his age, about his bass-playing that was so loud because he was  _ trying to drown  _ them  _ out. _

He wanted to rip his hair out all the time. He didn’t even stay in that half of the house anymore. He came in, walked straight past the kitchen and living room, down the hall to his bedroom. He would stay there until dinner, and then he would just come to grab the food and take it back to his room, ignoring his mom’s complaints. 

He remembered hiding in his closet when he was little, probably starting when he was around eight. That was when his troubles with school were really coming to light. He would close the door and sit there in the dark, dragging his biggest stuffed animal with him. He would spend hours, trying to ignore the angry voices down the hall and the distant thuds as things slammed shut over and over. He would squeeze his stuffed animal to his chest - a giant plush horse he’d gotten at the arcade, from a point in time before his parents had decided that they absolutely despised each other - whispering to himself that they would be okay, that it would be over soon.

More than once, he’d ended up falling asleep, not waking up until the morning when his mom opened the door looking for him. 

Sometimes, Reggie did it again. Not with the horse - Cloppy had been thrown out ages ago, not that he’d gotten a say over the decision. Now, at sixteen, he didn’t fit very well; he had to squeeze inside, usually ending up sitting on top of a half-full laundry basket. But when it got really bad, when the arguments ran over a couple hours or when they were being particularly scathing, or just when he physically couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking enough to play his bass, he stepped inside, closed the door, and blasted his music as loud as he could in his headphones.

Tonight was one of those nights, and he took the bottom edges of his flannel and clenched his fists around them so they would stop shaking. He blasted Green Day, trying to ignore the vibrations of shouts and slamming doors through the wall. He closed his eyes, imagining he was somewhere else - practicing with his friends, playing a real concert venue, going on tour and performing with Billie Joe Armstrong.

Anywhere but here.

* * *

Reggie was not in a good mood when he got to school. He’d sat through his bus ride with no music, because he’d fallen asleep in the closet and his Discman’s battery had died.

He sat down at his table in physics, placing his head on the table with his hands braced over his neck. He tried to filter out the chatter all around him as he tried to get just a few seconds of rest - falling asleep cramped in the closet at about three in the morning really didn’t do much to actually refresh your body, as it turned out. His body ached.

He nearly fell out of his seat when a hand clapped on his shoulder. “Hey, bro! Wake up!” Luke said excitedly.

Reggie grumbled, but peeked an eye over his arm. Luke was staring at him, pouting dramatically with his lip out. It was ridiculous, but his big, dumb hazel eyes were peering and needling at him to break. Sighing, Reggie sat up, propping his chin on his hand instead.

“Hey, man,” he said, trying to force some cheer into the words. “How’re you?”

Judging by Luke’s furrowed brows, he did not succeed. 

Luckily, as the brunet opened his mouth to speak, Mr. Roberts started talking about their upcoming test. Reggie refused to look at Luke, instead straightening up and pretending to register anything about the test material. Forces and friction and momentum, yaddah yaddah yaddah. Still, even then he could feel Luke’s eyes boring into the side of his head.

His neck and back hurt, and his head ached, and his eyes were tired, but everything was fine. He was fine. Maybe a little sleepy, but he’d be fine. Luke was worried over nothing.

He was so worried about Luke noticing something that, by the time Mr. Roberts told them to start their assignment, he realized he hadn’t actually processed anything the man had said. 

He stared at the paper, unable to really read the words. He tried to squint to find the important words, but trying to get the letters to connect made his head pound even more.

A hand rested on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Reg?” Luke asked.

Reggie blinked quickly, nodding and glancing up at his friend. “Uh. Yeah. Just. You know.” He mimed clashing two blocks together. “Not sticking great today.”

Luke looked like he was a bit suspicious of that being everything, but he didn’t push. Instead, he just scooted closer so his leg rested against Reggie’s, and he began to read the first problem aloud, writing out the key information to the side. The leg thing didn’t really help Reggie concentrate, but it did help pull him back to earth.

* * *

A few hours later, Reggie was stepping out of English, and he felt like he was going to explode out of his skin. His teacher had called on him and put him on the spot over the reading, and he’d  _ done  _ it, but he hadn’t been able to remember anything even as he’d read it. When he struggled to answer, she just assumed that he hadn’t done it, and he felt like both an idiot and a jerk. 

He just wanted to put his headphones on and block out everything, but he of course hadn't had any opportunity to re-charge his Discman. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that they didn’t have band practice today. On one hand, a distraction would have been nice, but at the same time, he’d felt stressed enough trying to seem fine to Luke. He probably wouldn’t do much better with three pairs of eyes on him.

Plus, he really needed some sleep. 

As he left the building, he looked at the bus. He looked at the freshmen who were yelling at each other and calling each other some homophobic slurs, and he promptly decided that he was not dealing with that today. 

Frankly, he didn’t really feel like going home anyway, so he decided to walk to the band’s garage/studio instead. Luckily, it wasn’t far from their school, so it wasn’t too long a walk. Still, it felt like ages as all he could think of was other students snickering as he was supposedly caught on skipping the reading. His chest felt tight and he felt like squeezing his head until he couldn’t think anymore.

Once he got to the garage, he pushed the doors open with shaking hands. It was empty, like he’d expected. He headed up to the loft, where he knew it was darker. He tossed his backpack onto the floor and plopped into one of the ratty beanbag cushions they had up there. He untied his flannel from around his waist and wrapped his arms around it tightly, curling up so his face was smushed into the bag.

Of course, once he was actually there, the racing thoughts didn’t stop. Still, he continued to lie there, fidgeting minutely every once in a while, until eventually he felt himself drifting off.

* * *

Bobby bounced up and down on his toes as he played along with the Nirvana song blasting from the stereo across the studio. Moving his fingers up and down the neck of his guitar, he released the last of the pent-up tension that had built up in his conversation with his dad earlier. If he’d wanted to be compared to his older brother again, he would have just come straight to the studio instead of going into his house first.

After finishing the song, he let out a long sigh. He walked over to the stereo and turned it off before it could switch to the next song. He plucked a few more notes as he wandered back over to their set-up, replaying a riff from the last song.

Once he decided that he probably needed to go back inside and get started on his homework, he pulled his guitar off over his head. He unplugged it, moving to rest it against its stand, only to freeze when he heard a thump.

Silently, he slowly spun on his heel in the direction of the sound, looking upward towards the loft. He didn’t see anyone up there, but he knew that didn’t mean much - there wasn’t much visibility from down below. 

Quietly, he set the guitar down, before carefully moving towards the ladder. It wasn’t until he was halfway up that he realized that he should’ve probably grabbed a weapon or something - a baseball bat? But then he caught himself and mentally scolded himself. It was probably just one of the guys.

Although, if it was, why hadn’t they said anything? He’d been absolutely  _ blaring _ that music, and if one of them was writing music or doing their homework or whatever, he must’ve been driving them nuts. 

As he poked his head into the loft, he felt his entire body relax. It was just Reggie, curled up on a bean bag.

Wait. Bobby frowned, taking another step up. Reggie was  _ asleep. _ His arms were cuddled around his balled-up flannel, one of his legs pulled up as close as possible. creases in his forehead as his eyebrows turned downward along with the corners of his mouth. His other leg was extended outward, the heel of his boot pressed against the wooden floor. That was probably the source of the thud, he reasoned, as Reggie had flung his leg out.

Bobby couldn’t really comprehend what he was seeing. Seconds ago, he’d been jamming to music, and the combination of the stereo and his guitar should have woken Reggie. However, here he was, fast asleep and nestled into a bean bag.

Actually, Bobby mentally corrected, peering closer at his friend’s face from his distanced position. He might’ve been fast asleep, but it was clearly not a peaceful sleep. The bassist’s face was twisted into a frown, his shoulders twitching as his grip tightened around his flannel. Bobby wanted to reach forward, wake him up, but another look made him hesitate to do so. There were deep circles under Reggie’s eyes, a dull purple. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping much up until this point.

Bobby didn’t know what to think.

How the absolute hell was Reggie still asleep? No one should have been able to sleep through that music, not at that volume. He’s gotten noise complaints for playing the music that loud, and Reggie had been right above him? Sleeping through it? 

Bobby bit his lip before slowly making his way back down the ladder, his head a mess of confusion and astonishment. When he reached the floor, he walked over to the couch and grabbed the blanket that was tucked over the back, his thought process continuing as a train of  _ how? How? How? _

As he reached the top of the ladder, still moving quietly - although, as he thought about it, it probably didn’t matter considering Reggie’s surprising ability - with the blanket folded under his arm, the only conclusion he could come to was that Reggie must just be used to that kind of volume. He was in a rock band, after all. But sleeping through it?

Carefully, Bobby unfolded the blanket and gently laid it across his friend’s curled up form. Also, he thought, slowly tiptoeing back to the ladder, the idea sort of contradicted a lot he knew about Reggie. Usually, when it came to sudden noises, aside from music he was expecting, that is, the bassist bounced away from the sound, as if it physically pushed him backward. 

As he silently walked out of the studio and cautiously closed the door behind him, Bobby couldn’t help but think, still… he couldn’t think of any other reason Reggie could possibly be able to sleep through a booming stereo and an amp at a clean volume ten. 

And that conclusion… mixed with Reggie’s flinching at loud noises… did not make Bobby feel very good.

* * *

Reggie was feeling good, bouncing by the microphone and singing right into Luke’s face while Luke did the same to him. As they finished the verse of  _ Long Weekend _ , Luke playfully pushed him away, back towards his side of the stage. He of course immediately jumped up to Alex’s platform and played facing him, shaking his hips back and forth just a little bit, enough that it prompted Alex to roll his eyes (fondly, Reggie liked to think). He then spun and hopped down as Alex crashed his cymbals, immediately breaking into the riff of the final chorus.

As they finished, he, Bobby, and Luke each spun their instruments to their backs, Alex standing up behind them. Reggie and the other guitarists stepped to the front of the stage together and bowed, Alex in sync behind his drums. Reggie couldn’t help but preen at the applause they received from the patrons of the club. Someone even whistled!

After they set their guitars aside, Luke immediately wrapped his arms around Bobby and Reggie, resting his elbows on their shoulders as he mussed both their hair. Bobby immediately swore at him and fixed his, but Reggie let his be. “Awesome show, boys!” he crowed, shaking them. Reggie just laughed while Bobby rolled his eyes and gently pried himself from Luke’s chaotic grip.

Luke immediately spun to give Alex a hug too once he was down from his platform. “Alex! You  _ killed _ your solo in that one!”

Alex patted Luke on the back, sharing an exasperated but fond look with Bobby, which made Reggie giggle. “Thanks, man,” he said. When Luke didn’t let go and tried to  _ lift _ him, he swatted him on the shoulder. “ _ Okay, _ doofus,” he said, finally pulling Luke off him, which granted him a classic Patterson Pout™. Alex had met his fair share of those, though, and simply shoved Luke away.

Once they put their instruments away in their cases, putting them next to Alex’s drums so they were ready to load in the van when they left, the four of them immediately made their way to the bar. “Can we have four waters, please?” Luke asked, his chest still heaving from their performance.

It was after the bartender had slid four bottled waters across the counter, and he was waving away Luke who had pulled out his wallet, when it happened.

“Can’t believe they’re letting fags like that play.”

Reggie’s shoulders immediately rose to his ears as he looked over. It was just some guy leaning against a column, no one they knew, grumbling to his friend. They were looking at Alex, or, more likely, his pink t-shirt. Reggie’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked at his friends for their reactions. Alex looked pretty unfazed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time they’d heard such a comment, and it wouldn’t be the last. Alex had gotten over it a while ago. Luke was still talking to the bartender, likely about the show, clearly having not heard the comment. Bobby, however...

“Fucking excuse you?”

Oh, God.

Reggie automatically shrunk back against the wall beside the corner of the bar as Bobby stepped towards the men. “What the hell did you say?”

The man snarled in response. “I  _ said  _ your little friend in the pink is a fag.”

“You have a fucking problem with people being gay? Huh? You ignorant piece of shit?” Bobby snapped, his voice rising and then the other man was yelling back too, and nope nope  _ nope nope nope - _

He didn’t have any further to back up, his shoulder blades smacking into the wall, and he didn’t know whether to squeeze his eyes shut or watch the scene play out in front of him. When the guy took his own step forward, towering over Bobby while shouting something else awful, he made his decision and dropped his gaze to the floor, his heart thudding and his breath caught in his chest. 

He felt like he was going to vomit when Alex’s voice joined the mix, telling Bobby to calm down, that it’s not worth it, but Bobby only shouted louder.

* * *

Luke had no clue what was happening. He stopped to talk to the bartender for a second about their set, and the next thing he knew, Bobby was in a fight with some random dude. Not physical, luckily, at least not yet, but they were yelling loud enough to make a scene against the loud music coming from the speakers.

He watched in horror as the man used his height to threaten Bobby, but he relaxed when Alex went over to intervene. He didn’t know what the fight was about, but Alex was the voice of reason between the four of them. Plus, if it came to it, Alex was also the biggest, which could hopefully stop a physical fight before it started. 

His heart seized for a moment when he realized he couldn’t see Reggie in the mix, nor was he where he’d left him. He relaxed when his eyes caught on a familiar leather jacket, seeing the bassist back against the wall, well out of the way of the conflict. 

As he stepped closer, though, skirting around the arguing group, he felt himself tense back up as he processed the way Reggie was holding himself. He was pressed against the wall so flat like you get on those spinning rides at an amusement park. Come to think of it, he looked about as nauseous as you get on those rides, too. His eyes were burning a hole through the sticky wooden floor, almost as he was preparing for it to swallow him up.

“Reg?” he asked slowly, gently. Probably barely audible over the shouting.

Still, Reggie immediately looked up, his eyes looking a little wild. “Luke!” he said, his tone breathless. “Hey.”

Luke stepped closer, joining him against the wall. “Hey, man,” he said carefully. “Are you okay?”

Reggie nodded quickly, resembling a bobblehead, but he wasn’t really looking at Luke anymore, his gaze distant and looking somewhere else. Not at the fight, either, but somewhere outside the building entirely.

“What - what’s going on? How did this happen?” Luke asked, glancing towards the fight. It looked like Alex had made little headway in settling it. 

“The, um. That guy- uh. He called Alex, um, you know. Fff…” he mumbled, dropping his gaze again and shaking his head.

Luke could fill in the blank, and he felt his hackles rise immediately, his gaze whipping back to the fight. “Son of a…” he started, taking a step forward. 

Except, he felt a hand grab his wrist, so tight it threw him off guard. “Wha-?” he asked, looking over his shoulder to see Reggie with eyes squeezed shut, his own shoulders shaking. 

“Please don’t,” Reggie whispered.

The fight immediately sapped away and Luke melted back against the wall, lifting the arm Reggie had grabbed and pressing a hand onto the shoulder closest to him. “Sure,” he said softly. “Sure.”

Reggie swallowed so hard Luke could see it, nodding jerkily as he continued to keep his head down, eyes still cinched closed. 

This… was not normal. Granted, Luke knew that not everyone was as ready to get into a fight as he and Bobby were - hell, Alex definitely wasn’t - but he also knew that  _ this _ \- Reggie’s trembling, the wringing of his hands around his flannel, his eyes that were squeezed so tightly that it would give Luke a headache - this wasn’t normal.

Most people just got out of the way.  _ Maybe  _ they left entirely. They didn’t freeze like this, their entire body trembling and looking like they were about to be sick.

“It’s okay,” Luke said gently, squeezing Reggie’s shoulder carefully. “It’s okay, Alex is handling it.” A glance over made his shoulders relax slightly, as Bobby was finally acknowledging Alex’s words - still furious, of course, but slowly letting himself be pulled away. The other guy was still yelling, but if Alex got Bobby out of there, he wouldn’t have anyone to shout at anymore. “Yeah, there, see,” he added, even though Reggie wasn’t looking, “Bobby’s listening to Alex, they’re about to get out of there. Then, we’ll get out of here, deal?” He kept his voice soft, as if carefully prying Reggie out of whatever headspace he was in - because whatever it was, it was scaring the shit out of Luke.

Reggie nodded stiffly again, and he opened his eyes, but he notably didn’t lift his gaze, instead staring at the dark-stained floorboards. 

Luke nodded too, more to kickstart his brain than to confirm anything. He looked back towards the argument, where Bobby was jabbing his finger towards the man in a final tone. Okay, that looked like a pretty good sign. Carefully, making sure not to make the action harsh, he placed his hands over Reggie’s ears (because he honestly has  _ no fucking clue _ how to deal with whatever is going on) and raised his voice to call over. “Alex!”

Alex looked over, finally managing to yank Bobby away from the homophobic asshole. His eyebrows furrowed, glancing down to Luke’s hands with a clear question in his eyes.

Luke just shook his head, clenching his teeth and jerking his head back towards the stage, a clear sign:  _ we need to get the hell out of here. _

Thank God they had years of experience reading each other’s silent looks, because Alex just nodded, pulling Bobby off in that direction.

Luke lowered his hands, and he honestly didn’t like that Reggie didn’t seem to have much of a reaction to the movement. “Hey, see? It’s over. We’re gonna head out now, okay? Fight’s done. We’re just gonna grab our stuff and go.”

Reggie nodded, finally lifting his gaze. His eyes were still distant, almost glazed over in a way that frankly scared the shit out of Luke, but eventually, he made eye contact with him. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Luke whispered back, gently guiding Reggie away from the wall and back towards the stage where their instruments lay. He didn’t even spare a glance in the homophobe’s direction, too focused on Reggie and his strange, fragile state. 

He hated this. He hated this, and he didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn’t good. And it had very bad connotations that he wasn’t really ready to look into yet.

* * *

Alex was a fucking  _ mess. _ He felt like his entire body was shaking, and it probably was. Words were echoing through his head, first scoffing and dismissive, then incredulous, then furious and horrifying because he’d thought - he’d  _ really _ thought that maybe things would go right. He felt like his heart, which had stopped as soon as the confession had left his mouth, was plunging through his body. It wasn’t like the thrill of a rollercoaster, though, it felt like it was breaking everything as it went, shattering his ribcage and his spine as everything crumbled around him. 

He thought his parents loved him. He thought that they  _ would  _ love him, no matter what. He’d thought that, no matter what the people at church said, that if it was him, they’d realize that it didn’t change anything. That he was still the same Alex he’d always been. That he was still their son. He thought that their love was unconditional, but it turned out that it was  _ very much  _ conditional.

He hadn’t even been thinking as he tore out of the house, away from his parents’ angry glares and fuming disappointment. He couldn’t deal with it. Their presence and that house had suddenly felt suffocating, pulling all of the oxygen out of his lungs and pressing down against him.

When he found himself at Reggie’s door, hand raised to knock, he finally got a grip of his body and his thoughts, just for a moment. He still couldn’t tell whether the wetness on his cheeks was from the cold drizzle of rain or from his tears, but he was able to stop himself before his knuckles made contact with the door.

This was Reggie’s house. This was Reggie’s front door, which Alex had never even seen before. He’d only dropped Reggie off at the top of the stairs leading down, or he’d seen the back of the house when they decided to hang out at the beach nearby. He’d never stood here, he’d never even  _ approached _ Reggie’s house because he knew Reggie didn’t want them to. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t pushed, and now here he was. 

He didn’t want to bother him. He knew Reggie had his reasons, and he didn’t want to hurt Reggie or break his trust by pushing, but…  _ God, _ he felt like he was breaking.

It seemed he wouldn’t have to make a decision, though, because suddenly the door was opening. He stumbled backward, his eyes widening. Guilt was churning in his gut. “Reg-” he started, ready to apologize or  _ something _ , but then Reggie was throwing himself forward. 

His arms wrapped around Alex’s shoulders as he asked, warm worry lacing his tone, “Dude, what happened?” Alex barely had time to appreciate the embrace before Reggie was pulling away just far enough to close the door behind him, but quickly bringing his hands back to his shoulders again. The look on his face, gentle concern, is what did him in.

He shattered, trembling even more as he shook his head too fast and yanked Reggie forward, hands fisting around his shirt. Words bubbled out of him, wet and terrified. “I - I told them. I told them, and they don’t want to see me again - they’re so mad-”

“Whoa, slow down,” Reggie interrupted, before Alex felt his hands rubbing between his shoulder blades, and he felt himself melting further into his friend’s arms. “Told who what? What happened?”

And that -  _ shit. _

Alex’s grip tightened, and he tried to bury his face into Reggie’s shoulder even more. His breath stuttered as he said, “I told my parents that” - he swallowed - “that I’m gay.” It came out so quiet, he wasn’t sure if Reggie could hear it. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Reggie stilled, and with that Alex’s heart, but then his arms were squeezing even tighter and his chin was nestling on Alex’s shoulder even though he had to stand on his tip-toes to do it. “Oh, Alex,” he sighed, rubbing his back again, “I’m so sorry,” and Alex felt himself closing his eyes as he shook in his arms. 

Then, Reggie pulled away for a second, and Alex was surprised to see such a fierce look in his friend’s eyes. “You know that isn’t bad, right? It doesn’t change how much we love you.”

Alex sniffled, trying to nod before promptly falling into tears again and falling back against him, because  _ God,  _ he’d really needed to hear that. “I love you too,” he sobbed, clutching desperately at his flannel again. 

Still, he felt the nasty guilt from before crawling upward. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away just enough to look at Reggie. “I know - I know you have a thing about your house, but - but you were the closest, and I just ran, and it was raining, and I-”

But Reggie interrupted him again, his voice soft. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, before pulling Alex back in. “You’re good, man. You’re good.”

Alex finally let himself relax, sinking into Reggie’s touch and letting himself cry for a minute. The sick feeling slowly started to fade away. Everything still hurt, but the shaking gradually settled and he was able to catch a breath without choking into a sob.

Eventually, Reggie gently pulled away again. “Do you want to go to the garage?” he asked, and Alex wanted to cry again at the offer.

Instead, he just nodded quickly, not quite trusting himself to speak yet, and dragged his sleeve under his nose to stop it from dripping.

“Okay,” Reggie said. “I’m gonna grab an umbrella real quick.” At Alex’s nod, he ducked back inside, closing the door behind him.

Alex pulled his jacket tighter around him, rubbing his thumb against his arm as he waited. He still felt weird standing here, at Reggie’s house, but his friend didn’t seem to care too much, too focused on him. That in itself almost made Alex cry again, but then the door was opening once more.

Reggie smiled, holding the umbrella out, opening his mouth to say something -

There was a loud  _ crash _ behind him, followed by a hollered,  _ “Fuck you!” _ which had both Alex and Reggie freezing.

What the fuck.

Reggie slowly lifted his gaze to Alex, not even glancing behind him, which made something uncomfortable churn in his gut.

“Um… is everything okay in there?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together. He leaned slightly, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening over Reggie’s shoulder, despite the fact that the sound was clearly coming from another room.

Reggie nodded quickly, a little too much. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine,” he said, sighing shakily as he stepped forward, pulling the door shut behind him. Alex could see him swallow. “They’re just fighting again.”

_ Again. _

Alex reached out and touched Reggie’s arm that was holding the umbrella, asking, “Do they do that… a lot?” before he could stop himself, because - because Alex’s parents had fought before. They’d fought, but things didn’t go  _ crash _ and no one said things like what he’d just heard.

Reggie clearly hesitated, before casting a smile towards him. It wasn’t a smile Alex liked to see. “Yeah. Pretty much… all the time, really,” he said, before lifting the umbrella and popping it open, lifting it above their heads. He nodded his head, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Alex hesitated, but he walked with him anyway. “Is that why your house is always off-limits?” he asked, before promptly wanting to shove his foot in his mouth.

Reggie just nodded, though. “Yeah. Didn’t want you guys to have to deal with that. Sorry,” he said.

_ Sorry, _ as if he had anything to apologize for.

“Nah, I get it,” Alex said. He floundered for a moment, before blurting a stupid joke about their shitty homes, which - really, Alex?

Luckily, Reggie didn’t seem to mind, just giggling and leaning against him. The touch helped him relax, so Alex wrapped an arm around Reggie’s shoulders.

He still felt absolutely terrible. He didn’t know what he was going to do, whether he would even be able to go home, he didn’t know how he was going to tell the other guys. He knew that he wasn’t done crying for the night. 

He knew that he needed to know more about what was happening in Reggie’s house, because things breaking and that level of screaming were frankly horrifying. He knew that things were wrong, and if he was in a better state of mind, a lot of things about Reggie would start to make sense.

But he wasn’t in a better state of mind, so for now, he was going to stick by his friend and hold on tight.

* * *

Reggie finally set his copy of  _ Huckleberry Finn  _ down on his bed, because things were even harder to put together than usual with the angry yelling coming from just on the other side of the wall. He was pretty sure that even people who didn’t struggle with stringing letters and words together would be unable to read with this level of noise going on.

When he heard a thump against the wall directly behind him, he decided that no, he couldn’t deal with this tonight. He was exhausted and tired, and he really needed to get his homework done because his English teacher loved to put him on the spot, despite the fact that Reggie literally never disrupted class or did anything to provoke her. He wasn’t going to get through this chapter, not with his parents screaming about… what, accusations of cheating again? He couldn’t really tell, but it didn’t matter anyway.

He slid off his bed and grabbed his backpack that was hanging from his closet door. He went straight to his bed, dumping his book, pencil, and notebooks into the bag. He went to his dresser, pulling a couple days of clothes and stuffing them in the backpack as well. He flinched as something particularly loud hit the wall, but he didn’t let himself lose focus on his task. He grabbed his leather jacket, pulling it on quickly. He grabbed his Discman too, dropping it into his bag along with his headphones. He zipped up his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. Glancing around the room, he grabbed his flannel from the floor and tied it around his waist, already wrapping one hand in the extra length of one of his sleeves. Finally, he grabbed his bass from its stand. 

He took a deep breath, taking one final look around the room, making sure he didn’t forget anything. He had his homework, had his bass, had his Walkman. His jacket, his flannel, some clothes if he really needed to stay at the studio for another couple days. That was it, right?

Another crash sounded from the other room, and he decided that it had to be enough, because he was starting to feel sick.

He threw open his door, only to stop in his tracks as the door opposite flew open as well, revealing his mom looking pissed out of her mind. He went rigid as she spotted him and stopped. There was a brief look of indignation cutting through her face before quickly just turning to pure anger again. 

“And where the hell are you going?” she asked, crossing her arms. Behind her, his dad yelled something but Reggie was frankly so fucking scared he didn’t process a single word.

Reggie swallowed, trying not to let himself blink as he stared at her. “Um. I’m going to the studio,” he said quietly, his voice shaking.

“At this time of night?” she asked - no, it wasn’t even a question, it was just more anger.

He wanted to scream,  _ ‘Yes! Because it’s only eight o’clock and I’ve only been home for a few hours and it feels like I’ve been stuck listening to your stupid screaming for weeks!’  _

But he didn’t say that, because he knew it would be a very,  _ very  _ bad idea. Instead, he just simply mumbled, “Yes.”

She jerked her head. “Excuse me?” she said, and she wasn’t yelling but her voice was still loud.

“Yes, I’m going now,” he said, raising his volume slightly, but not enough to make her think he was snapping, before he tried turning and walking down the hallway.

Except he couldn’t go far, because he felt a tug on his bass. And with that, he felt his heart drop to his stomach, his head pounding. 

Slowly, he turned to face her, trying not to let out the gasp that was bubbling in his chest at the sight of her holding the body of his electric bass. His  _ bass. _

“Please let go,” he pleaded, peering into her eyes and praying that a speck of his desperation reaches some deep part of her that still loves him.

“No.” Nothing else, just a firm  _ no. _

“ _ Please,” _ Reggie tried again, and when she didn’t budge, he  _ pulled, _ because this was his  _ everything,  _ but then she was shoving the instrument forward and he felt the harsh headstock plunge into his stomach. He grunted, all the air shoving itself out of his body as he stumbled back into the wall, his head colliding with it.

As he gasped, trying to catch his breath, she pulled again and yanked the guitar out of his hands. He reached forward to grab it back, his chest heaving, but she just pulled it further away with a scoff before storming down the hallway.

He took a rough step forward, saying, “ _ Wait--” _ before freezing as she threw his bass down against the wall, not even pausing for a second. Motionless moments later, he heard the back door open and slam shut, and he could feel it shake through the whole house, but he couldn’t get himself to move, just staring blankly at the ground where his instrument lay.

“Where the hell does she think she’s going?” he heard his dad grumble, stepping out of their bedroom and shoving past him too with his shoulder. Reggie was pushed into the wall again, but he didn’t react. Just watched as his dad didn’t bother to step around the bass, stepping right on top of the body. Not that it mattered anymore.

Heard the door open again. 

Heard his dad start yelling again.

Heard, distantly, his mom snapping something back.

He couldn’t tell what she was saying, but it was what snapped him into action. He ran forward and grabbed the remnants of his bass, staring down at it. The headstock was broken, barely holding onto the neck by its splinters. The strings sagged sadly with it, warped along with the shape. The face wasn’t in horrible shape from his dad’s foot, but it didn’t matter. 

Something inside him broke.

He  _ tore _ out of there, avoiding his dad entirely by going out the front door, running up the steps to the street. As he reached the top, he thought maybe he heard his dad shouting at him, but his mind was doing all the screaming he needed to hear. He kept running.

He didn’t fully realize he was running  _ anywhere _ until he found himself at the end of the driveway leading to the studio. 

He guessed he shouldn’t be too surprised, since that was where he was planning on going anyway, but it still caught him off guard that he didn’t really remember the trip. The sight of the lights on inside the garage also threw him off, even though logically he  _ knew _ Alex was spending the night here now. Then, as he looked down at the sight of his instrument in the pitiful shape it was, he felt the cracks that had been slowly knitting towards each other finally connect, pushing his fragile state to the shattering point.

The first sob came out as a gasp, especially once he bent forward with the force of it and felt pain shoot through his abdomen. He pulled the pieces of the bass to his chest, whimpering as the headstock broke off entirely against his chest, falling and dangling from the strings. He clasped onto the remains tightly, his chest heaving as his breaths came short and fast. There were ugly noises happening around him, almost sounding like some kind of animal dying, and it very vaguely processed that the noises were from  _ him. _

He ended up on his knees, the rough cement of the driveway gritting against his skin through the rips in his jeans. Another awful noise pulled itself out of him as he hugged the head of the bass to his chest, the neck against the side of his face, ignoring the harsh pain that was pulsing from his stomach. He just squeezed and squeezed, his head pounding as he felt like throwing up.

* * *

Alex hadn’t been too surprised when Luke showed up just an hour after practice had ended. The guitarist didn’t spend much time at his house anymore. When Luke came in, Alex didn’t even question it, just lifted his feet off the other end of the couch so the other could sit.

Bobby was a little more of a surprise. He could usually deal with his parents well enough. Alex had raised an eyebrow when he came in about forty minutes later, and Bobby sheepishly shrugged. He’d explained that he’d grabbed the mail after dinner and saw more stuff from UCLA, and he just knew it would prompt a conversation that he didn’t want to deal with, so he’d just dumped it on the table and made some excuse to leave. Escaping, of course, to their safe haven.

That was why, come about eight-thirty, the three of them were strewn across the studio. Alex was on the floor, his butt up against the coffee table with his legs thrown on top of it, doing his reading for English the next day. Luke was on the couch, decidedly  _ not  _ doing his homework, holding a Gameboy a few inches away from his face. Alex honestly wasn’t even sure where he’d found the thing. Bobby was up in the loft, his legs sticking out between the railings and swinging as he tried (and failed) to finish a Rubik’s cube.

Alex was almost at the end of his chapter when a loud clatter made him startle, looking up to see Bobby frozen, looking towards the garage doors. The Rubik’s cube laid on the ground down below, clearly the source of the noise. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Luke asked, voicing Alex’s thoughts exactly.

“Do you guys not fucking hear that?” Bobby snapped, pointing a finger towards the door with his eyebrows furrowed.

Alex and Luke both paused, not hearing anything. They turned to glance at each other, before looking back at Bobby. Luke started, “Uh, dude-”

“Shh!” Bobby hushed loudly, shoving himself back from the edge of the loft and pushing himself to his feet. “Listen!” 

Luke shut up, and Alex strained to hear, and… there were small, aborted noises coming from outside, along with something that sounded like… gasping?

What  _ was  _ that?

Alex tossed his book aside, rolling over to stand up, while Bobby was already rushing down the ladder. Luke looked hesitant to pause his game, but once Alex smacked him in the arm, he huffed and put it down, standing up as well. “It’s probably just…” he tried, before pausing, because it was just that - it didn’t sound like an animal. 

Alex headed to the door, but Bobby was already running up and pressing himself against it to look out the small windows up top. Then he was promptly letting out a string of curses, which made Alex’s heart lurch out of his chest, Luke asking a panicked, “What?” behind them.

“It’s fucking  _ Reggie!” _ Bobby shouted, shoving the door open. Alex’s breath caught, barely sharing a scared look with Luke before they were both darting out, too.

He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of his friend crumpled on the driveway, absolutely  _ sobbing. _

_ What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck- _

The three of them immediately ran forward, crowding around him.

“Reg, what’s wrong?”

“Reggie?”

“What  _ happened? _ Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer any of their questions, just gasping on another cry, and Alex hoped it was just the moonlight, but he looked even paler than usual.

Then, there was a muttered, “ _ Shit,” _ and Alex and Bobby whipped their heads towards Luke, who was numbly reaching down to grab - oh, fuck.

Luke was carefully holding the headstock of Reggie’s bass in his hands, and it was  _ only  _ the headstock, because it was completely broken away from the rest of the guitar. The strings were the only thing connecting it at all, leaving it hanging as Reggie hugged the body of the instrument.

“Reg…” he whispered, because that… that was his  _ baby. _ He’d told them the story of how long it’d taken to get it, how hard he’d worked. Besides maybe his flannel, it was the only material thing that Reggie actually cared about, that he actually  _ treasured _ . He would never let anything happen to it, he treated it like a living, breathing thing.

“We should get inside,” Bobby said quietly, and he was right. It was unlikely that anyone in the neighborhood would be disturbed by the scene, but it was better safe than sorry. Moreso, though, the studio was their safe haven, and being in there might grant Reggie some comfort.

They managed to bring him inside, but it took all three of them - Bobby and Luke helped him up, supporting him on either side, while Alex gently led him forward through the open door, all three of them murmuring comforts that they hoped he could hear over his heaving breaths.

Once they were inside and the doors were closed, they helped him onto the couch, Alex sitting on the coffee table and Luke sitting by his side. Before Bobby sat down too, Alex quietly requested him to get the small waste basket from the bathroom, noting that their friend’s pallor hadn’t gotten much better under the warm studio lights. He nodded, quickly going to get it after throwing a worried glance in Reggie’s direction. 

Who, speaking of, was still clinging to the remnants of his bass with a grip that looked so tight it hurt, his knuckles turning white. Alex honestly didn’t know what to do, if taking the bass away would help or just make things worse. He shared a look with Luke, who looked equally lost.

Bobby returned with the waste basket, placing it on the table next to Alex in case they needed it. He then took the spot on Reggie’s other side, reaching an arm behind his shoulders and rubbing his arm comfortingly. “Bud…” he said, before asking, his tone desperate, “What  _ happened?” _

A sob, not as loud as the others, but still absolutely heartbreaking, bubbled from Reggie’s throat. Luke’s hand flew up to his shoulder, a fraught attempt at easing him, while Alex placed a hand on his knee - only to frown immediately as he noticed the imprints on them from the concrete outside. He rubbed carefully with his thumbs, leaning towards his friend.

Luke murmured a quiet, “Reg,” and it’s filled with so much pain that Alex feels it in his bones.

Reggie finally managed some words past a gasp, but they were stilted and came out a mess. “They - she - then he -”

Luke shushed him gently, soothing him from the mounting panic that was clearly starting to build. It seemed to work, because Reggie managed to catch his breath - still a little quicker than Alex liked, but it was better than the hyperventilating. It helped  _ Alex _ breathe a little better, and he didn’t know how Luke seemed to have the magic ability to comfort Reggie better than anyone else, but he’d never been more grateful for it.

* * *

This was one of the worst feelings in Bobby’s  _ life. _ Here one of his best friends was, right next to him, and he felt utterly unable to help him. He just kept  _ crying, _ so close yet so far away from them, and Bobby didn’t know what to do except fight whoever did this. He knew that had to wait, though, if he ever got to do it, because Reggie needed them.

Luckily, Reggie’s disposition towards Luke’s reassurances seemed to finally console him a little as his shoulders stopped trembling so much.

After another minute or two, Reggie tried speaking again - his chest was still heaving, but he wasn’t letting out big sobs anymore. Unfortunately, the tears hadn’t stopped, though. “She - she grabbed it, and then - I asked her to stop,  _ I did-” _

Luke interrupted him with soft hushes again, rubbing their friend’s shoulder again.

“Who, Reg?” Bobby asked gently. “Did you know her? Or... them?” he asked, trying to piece the bits and pieces his friend was managing to supply them. 

Then, before Reggie could even reply, Alex suddenly straightened, catching both Bobby’s and Luke’s attention. “Jesus,” he whispered harshly, before immediately leaning forward again and placing his palms on Reggie’s knees again. “Reg, did your  _ parents  _ break it?” he asked, but somehow, it sounded like he already knew the answer. 

And, looking at Reggie, who squeezed his eyes shut and blubbered out syllables that didn’t really make sense, but  _ nodded, _ Bobby concluded that he was  _ right. _

He let out an incredulous,  _ “What?” _ before quickly backtracking because shit, that sounded like he didn’t believe them. It felt fucking  _ insane, _ because who the fuck would do that to their kid, to  _ Reggie, _ but Bobby had really been growing to realize that Reggie’s parents were  _ shit. _ His free hand clenched into a fist. “They - God, I’m gonna-” 

He felt a hand on his leg, and looked up to see Alex giving a small, firm shake of the head.  _ Not now. _

So, Bobby pursed his lips and breathed slow, trying to calm himself down. Reggie needed him. And, he thought, looking at the remnants of the guitar he was still holding, he probably  _ really  _ didn’t need to hear any more anger right now.

A glance over Reggie’s head told Bobby that Luke was facing a similar problem, fury fuming behind his eyes but trying so hard to stay calm for their friend’s sake.

“Okay. Okay,” Luke said, clearly trying to compose himself, ire obviously simmering beneath the surface, but he managed to keep the lid on it.

An, “I tried, I  _ tried-” _ broke from Reggie’s mouth, and it took literally all of Bobby’s self-control not to explode. 

Luckily, Alex reached forward and gently grabbed Reggie’s arm. “Hey.  _ Hey. _ None of this is your fault.” Reggie let out a whine, but Alex simply talked over it, keeping his voice calm. “It  _ isn’t. _ You know that, and we know that.”

Reggie shuddered, visibly swallowing, but he managed a nod. 

“Can you explain what happened?” Alex tried, keeping his voice soft.

“You don’t have to, though,” Bobby added, because they were all well aware that whatever had happened shook Reggie bad.

Reggie mimicked Bobby’s own breathing technique from before. “They…” He closed his eyes again, trying a slow breath. On his other side, Luke picked up one of the sleeves of his flannel, still tied around his waist, and pulled it up to Reggie’s hand. Automatically, he latched onto it, twisting it around his fingers. 

“I was… I was trying to do homework. They were - they were fighting.”

That part at least wasn’t surprising. Bobby had managed to put two and two together when he’d discovered Reggie asleep in the studio, no matter how much he hated it. He was clearly used to loud noise, and mixing that with the flinching… he clearly had to deal with it way too much than any kid should have to deal with.

“I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t get the words… they were so loud and words are already  _ so hard,  _ I-” Reggie said, his voice cracking. Both Luke and Bobby rubbed his shoulders soothingly. Bobby had learned that Reggie had trouble with a lot of school stuff - it unfortunately took Alex pulling him aside though, after some  _ stupid  _ joke he’d made about someone not getting a basic math problem. He felt a pang of guilt again at the reminder.

Now, he just murmured, “Mm-hm,” urging Reggie to continue.

“I - I decided to come here, where - where it’d be quieter,” he continued, his voice shaking. “So I got my things, and I went to leave. But-” A gasp snuck up on him, and his face screwed up again. They gave him a minute, just waiting patiently until he was ready again. When he was, he kept going. “When I opened my d-door, she came out at the same ti-time.”

Bobby swallowed hard, closing his eyes. He wanted to tackle Reggie in a hug, but he knew it wasn’t the time.

“She was really mad. She asked me where I - where I was going. I told her. I tried to leave, and she - she grabbed my ba-a-a-sssss,” he hissed, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears fell. “I - I told her to give it back.  _ Please. Please, just give it back-” _

Luke shushed him gently again, murmuring quietly, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Reggie nodded, trembling. “She didn’t. She took it, and then she-” When he tries again, his voice is high-pitched, the words coming out with a cry. “She threw it. And - it - and then she left, and my dad followed her, and he stepped on it.”

“Shit,” Bobby whispered. He squeezed Reggie towards him. Based on the jostle, Luke immediately leaned into his other side.

“I’m so sorry, Reggie,” Luke said, and when Bobby looked over at the sound of his voice trembling, he realized that his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

“Then I came here,” Reggie said, his bottom lip trembling.

“Well, we’re glad you did,” Alex said, and Bobby immediately nodded. “I’m glad you got out of there.”

“Same,” Luke agreed, and Bobby showed his agreement by squeezing Reggie’s shoulder.

* * *

Luke was so fucking angry, he was so furious, and he was  _ heartbroken, _ because  _ Reggie wasn’t supposed to be like this. _ He was supposed to be  _ happy. _ He deserved only good things, and he deserved to be loved, and he didn’t fucking deserve to have something so important to him so flippantly disregarded and  _ destroyed _ . Luke wanted to scream and he wanted to cry and he wanted to tear down Reggie’s parents’ door.

Instead, he pushed his face into Reggie’s shoulder, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist and the guitar still tucked to his torso. “You don’t deserve to deal with any of this.”

Reggie didn’t say anything, so he lifted his gaze to see him staring blankly ahead, somewhere over Alex’s shoulder. “Hey. You know that, yeah? None of this.”

Reggie swallowed, before blinking and looking at him. “Yeah,” he said. It didn’t sound very convincing, but Luke also wasn’t sure how much he would get out of him in this state.

Still, he repeated: “None of it.” Carefully, he returned to his previous position, pressing his nose and cheek into Reggie’s shoulder.

“Reg…” Alex started, and it was  _ very  _ apprehensive. “Do you think we could take a look? At your bass?”

Above him, Reggie sniffled, and Luke’s face twisted in misery as he tightened his grip around his hips. “It’s _ gone,” _ the bassist sobbed, and Luke could feel his shoulders tightening as he squeezed the instrument.

And it was. It was completely wrecked, and it was his stupid parents’  _ fault. _ But at the same time, his iron grip wasn’t going to fix it.

“We know, bud,” Bobby murmured. “But we want to get a good look at it. Is that okay?” 

Reggie hesitated long enough that Luke didn’t think he was going to budge, but after a minute or two, he finally loosened his grip on the guitar. 

Luke made eye contact with the other boys over Reggie’s bowed head. After a few seconds without any of them budging, Alex carefully reached forward. Reggie let him slowly pull the bass from his arms, and Luke grabbed hold of the headstock before it could swing into his face.

There was no fixing the neck - it was too splintered, and several of those splinters were missing entirely by this point, leaving empty spots even if they were able to glue it back together.

Alex carefully placed the guitar aside, setting the remains behind him on the table. Luke decided to try to save the thinking about solutions later, halting his brain as it tried to scramble for solutions. While the bass was a problem, Reggie needed his focus right now. So, he quickly moved his arms so he could give his friend a proper hug, squeezing him tightly around the middle, only to rip his arms away when he was met with a hiss and an obvious wince.

Luke and the others stilled. “Reg…” he murmured, working very,  _ very  _ hard to keep his voice calm instead of letting it rise in alarm like it very much wanted to. “What’s wrong?”

Reggie’s hand replaced where Luke’s arm had been, bracing his stomach. “It hurts,” was all he said.

The other boys didn’t know what to do with that. They looked at each other, eyebrows raising with panic and confusion and all sorts of things.

“Hurts like you’re gonna be sick?” Alex asked, reaching for the wastebasket, but Reggie shook his head.

“No. No, um.” He closed his eyes, his face screwing up more. “I - when my mom grabbed my guitar… she-” He moved his other hand suddenly, scrabbling until he found Luke’s hand. He gripped it hard, squeezing his fingers, but Luke didn’t complain - he only scooted closer, bracing himself for the discomfort and the words ahead.

“When I tried to take it back, she got mad. And she… she pushed it.”

“She  _ hit  _ you with it?” Bobby blurted, shooting to his feet as Reggie just nodded. He walked a few feet away, going in circles and clenching and unclenching his fists, muttering under his breath. 

Luke’s blood was cold, and it was pounding in his ears. He wanted to get up and join Bobby, maybe grab a baseball bat and make his way to the Peters’ house, but Reggie’s grip on his hand stopped him. He focused on that contact and left Alex to try to calm Bobby down (“Not right now, Bobby!” “But-!” “I  _ know,  _ but not now!”), instead dedicating his full attention to his friend next to him.

“Okay, okay,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “Um… okay, Reg, does anywhere else hurt? Did” - he swallowed - “did she hit you anywhere else?”

Reggie shook his head, before pausing. “Oh. Uh, I hit my head against the wall.”

Luke breathed out slowly through pursed lips, trying not to let his hands shake. “Okay. Can I take a look?” he asked.

Reggie wordlessly tilted his head down, lifting the hand that had been previously bracing his torso to barely touch a spot on the back of his head.

Luke carefully brushed his hand aside, sweeping the hair up with one hand and using the other to carefully skim his fingers across Reggie’s scalp. Finding no bump, he relaxed, especially when Reggie only barely winced when he gently applied pressure.

“Okay,” Luke said. “I think you’re good - there’s no bump and I don’t see a bruise yet. Let us know if it starts getting worse or you feel dizzy or confused, though, okay?” 

Reggie nodded, but he didn’t lift his head. Letting out a small sigh, Luke leaned over and placed his hand on Reggie’s opposite shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the tender spot.

After pulling away, Luke lowered his head so he could make eye contact. “Can I take a look at the other one, too?” he asked, gliding his hand back across Reggie’s shoulders towards himself. He left his hand on Reggie’s knee, squeezing gently.

Reggie let out a shaky sigh, before nodding again. He carefully lifted his t-shirt, and Luke immediately winced.

The bruise was already forming, right below his ribcage. It wasn’t wide, but that made sense given the cause. It was also bright red, and he guessed it would become much darker over the next few days. 

“Bobby, can you get the ice pack from the fridge?” Luke asked, grazing his fingers over the mark, his heart clenching.

When he looked up, he saw Bobby glance over. His jaw clenched immediately, but he just swallowed and nodded stiffly, before turning on his heel and heading to the mini-fridge they kept on the opposite side of the garage. 

Alex also looked over, shutting his eyes immediately upon catching a glimpse of the injury. Reggie swallowed and dropped his shirt, letting it conceal the bruise again. His gaze stayed on his lap, and Luke noticed his bottom lip trembling. Immediately, he returned his arms back to the way they were earlier, loosely clasped around his hips and away from the bruise. He nudged his nose against Reggie’s shoulder again, which had begun shaking, and rested his forehead. 

“What am I gonna do?” The bassist’s words came out as a small whisper.

While Luke hummed against his shoulder, Alex leaned back forward and placed his hands on Reggie’s knees again. “Hey. You have us. You’re gonna stay here, where you’re  _ safe, _ and you’ll have us. Anything you struggle with, we’ll be right there behind you.”

“But - the music, the  _ band- _ ” 

“-is still here. If we have to dig out the banjo for a while, then that’s what we’ll do,” Alex said, a corner of his mouth turning upward as he tried to amuse him.

Reggie didn’t quite laugh, just breathed fast through his nose, but it was  _ something. _ Bobby quickly joined in, clearly having calmed himself down enough as he handed Reggie the ice pack. “Yeah, and I mean, hey. If we were able to maintain our rockstar image back when Luke cut his own hair, we can keep it up despite having some country twang.”

At that, Reggie  _ did  _ snort, so Luke hammed it up, squawking indignantly and removing his arms from his friend’s waist. “It wasn’t  _ that  _ bad!”

“It was pretty bad,” Reggie offered, looking up with the first smile he’d given them all night. Luke melted at the sight, tightening his hug around Reggie’s hips. 

“Mm, it was almost as bad as that bowl cut you had in fourth grade,” Alex added, which made Luke  _ genuinely  _ sputter.

“It was  _ not,  _ and that one was _ not _ my fault! That was  _ entirely  _ my dad! I told him I wanted what Tom Cruise had in the Rain Man poster, but he forgot to bring the picture to the barber shop!” he protested, jabbing his finger towards Alex, who was laughing partly because of Luke’s extreme reaction, but also because  _ Reggie  _ was laughing.

“Says the kid whose hair was so spiky it looked like a cactus,” Luke grumbled, which had the intended effect of making Reggie giggle more. 

Alex gasped a tad too dramatically, before sputtering and turning to Bobby. “Well, what did your hair look like back then? It couldn’t’ve been much better!”

“You think I’m giving you guys that kind of ammo?” Bobby scoffed. “I’m smarter than that, thanks.”

“I bet it was awful. I bet you had the bowl cut to end all bowl cuts.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Bobby said, plopping back down on the other side of Reggie and reclining back, nonchalantly bracing his hands behind his head.

“I hate you,” Luke said, squishing his cheek against Reggie’s shoulder, which was shaking, but thankfully, it was with laughter now.

“You don’t,” Bobby returned, sounding way too self-satisfied.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“You think I can’t do this all night? I  _ do.” _

They continued to bicker, teasingly poking at each other so they could distract their best friend. Below the surface, they were all still furious and heartbroken and terrified, but they knew that right now wasn’t the time to let those emotions take over. Right now, they were going to take care of Reggie, and if that meant waiting until later to let themselves blow off their anger, then that’s what they would do. 

* * *

Reggie finally went back to his house a week and a half later. It went surprisingly okay - which, of course, meant that he was completely ignored by his parents, who were on opposite sides of the house instead of locked in the same room yelling at each other. 

His dad didn’t even look up when he came through the front door, clearly visible from the living room, and that - it sucked, but it was better than the alternative. He walked past him as he mindlessly watched some game on the box TV. 

He froze in the doorway to the hallway, swallowing hard. He didn’t hear his mom, and she hadn’t been in the kitchen, but her car was parked up on the street, so she had to be somewhere. He assumed she was in her room, the door closed. Still, even if she hadn’t been home, the sight of the hall made him feel nauseous.

But, he thought, taking a steadying breath, he was on a mission. He had his backpack and a trash bag, having left the garage in a rare moment when none of the guys were there. He knew they didn’t want him coming back here alone, but honestly, the thought of them in this house still made him sick. Plus, he didn’t know what his parents would do if they’d seen them. 

Also, despite his undying love for his boys, he didn’t particularly trust them not to do something stupid if they saw his parents.

His head had ended up fine, no bump or anything, and he hadn’t felt much pain since that first night. His stomach was still sore, the bruise having resided to a faint yellowish brown. That was normally okay, unless he pressed on the spot or stretched too much. The boys were still hesitant to hug him, though, too scared of hurting him, which kind of sucked, because he was really starting to miss the band’s cuddle piles.

Deciding to think of those instead of the scene he could feel threatening to replay through his head, he made his way to his room. It was exactly as he’d left it, his dresser drawers still open where he’d forgotten to close them. 

He started dumping clothes into his trash bag. He didn’t have a ton, sticking to a usual style, so it was actually a little easier than he’d expected. He grabbed his pillow, too, along with his comforter. He tried to be a little quiet, but speed was his primary goal.

When the trash bag was full, he tied it off, glancing around the room to see if he wanted anything else. He opened his desk, his eyes widening as he saw his old camera - he’d forgotten that was in there. It also made him remember his photo album, so he ripped open the next drawer and grabbed it, placing both items in his backpack more carefully than he had his other stuff. He didn’t want to damage the camera, and he didn’t want to bend the pages of the album.

After that, he realized there was nothing else. Everything else was already at the studio, even his banjo - which no, he hadn’t used in a gig yet, because they hadn’t bothered to try booking one.

He zipped up his backpack and walked out the door, shutting it behind him. He stared at the door knob for a moment, feeling something heavy in his chest and thick in his throat. Shutting his eyes briefly, he touched the door knob one last time, before turning on his heel and walking back out of the house.

When he got back to the studio, he was surprised to be nearly tackled by three extremely frantic boys. He nearly fell over from the force of them colliding with him mixed with the very lopsided weight of his haul. Luckily, Bobby was able to push him back onto solid footing before he fell. Still, their words mixing over each other made him pull away, wincing at their volume.

“Dude, where the hell were you?”

“You scared the shit out of us!”

“We thought your parents came and snatched you-”

He held up his arms, though it didn’t really work as the weight of the trash bag made him immediately drop them again. “Calm down! I just went back to my house-”

_ “Reggie!” _

“It was  _ fine,” _ he insisted, pointedly dropping the bag on the floor with a light thud. “I was just grabbing the rest of my stuff. I’m  _ fine _ .”

Alex fluttered by his side, tapping a rhythm on his leg. “You’re  _ sure _ you’re okay? They didn’t touch you?”

Reggie shook his head, raising his hands. “They didn’t even acknowledge me come in.”

They still didn’t look happy, but after a few seconds, they seemed to give in, deflating. “Still should’ve taken one of us with you,” Luke grumbled.

“Listen, it was something I had to do on my own, okay?” Reggie said, looking at them all in earnest. He purposefully did not point out that they would have tried to fight his parents, and that it wouldn’t have gone well.

“Fine,” they mumbled in unison, pouting at each other and the floor.

Reggie rolled his eyes, picking the bag back up and walking over to the ladder to bring it up to the loft, where he was currently keeping the rest of his clothes. When he got up there, he dropped the bag in the corner, sliding his backpack off as well and dropping it onto the bean bag. When he returned to the ladder, he furrowed his eyebrows as he heard whispering.

He looked over the railing to see the rest of the boys muttering things to each other, clearly in some kind of disagreement. “What are you guys saying?” he asked, nose scrunching up.

They each spun around, whipping their heads to look at him and hiding their hands behind their backs, despite the fact that they had clearly not been holding anything. “Nothing!” they said simultaneously, which… okay. That wasn’t suspicious at all.

Something churned in his stomach, but he tried to ignore it, climbing down the ladder. He heard more whispering, and when he looked up, Alex hissed something at Luke before smacking him upside the head. Luke spun towards him, smacking his shoulder back, and as he reached the ground, all he could catch was,  _ “...him!” _

Okay. Super not suspicious. Not… worrying at all. Reggie stared at them for a second as they resumed bickering, probably because they were stupid and were more invested in the argument than actually remembering that the subject of it could totally see and hear them. 

When they kept going, Alex whispering a loud enough, “ _ No!” _ that he could hear it distinctly, Reggie threw his arms up. “Hell- _ o _ ?” 

The boys looked at him again, like they were deer in headlights, before Bobby rolled his eyes and said, “Okay, this is ridiculous. Reggie, close your eyes.”

_ “Bobby!” _

“What?” Reggie asked.

“Just close your eyes, trust me,” Bobby said, shaking his head as Alex grouched in his ear.

“What is going on?”

“Just do it!” Luke said, and now he was bouncing on his toes and grinning. “Close your eyes, close your eyes!” 

“Oh, so no one can hear me, huh?”

“Alex, shut up. Reggie,  _ please,” _ Luke begged, drawing out the plea and pulling out the  _ puppy eyes _ , which of course left Reggie no choice but to close his eyes, bringing up a hand to cover them.

“You guys are so weird. Why? What’s happening? It’s not my birthday, right?”

“No, it’s not - okay,” said Alex, somewhere to his side. 

There was a heavy stomping noise and a hissed,  _ “Dude,  _ come on!” 

“I tripped on a cord!”

“Then watch where you’re going!”

“Oh, my  _ God.” _

“Not in this household, thank you.”

“This isn’t a house, Luke.”

“Okay!” Bobby shouted, promptly ending the bickering. “Reggie, you can open your eyes.”

Hesitantly, Reggie lowered his hand and peeked his eyes open.

“Holy shit.”

Alex and Bobby were on either side of Luke, presenting with jazz hands, as Luke stood in the middle, holding a bass.  _ His _ bass.

Reggie’s hands flew to his mouth. No, there was no way… One hand automatically started to reach out, before he caught it and brought it back towards himself, even as he took a hesitant step forward. “How…?”

Because there it was.  _ His  _ bass. The same model, and - wait, his little  _ RP  _ was still scribbled in one of the curves. A little whimper escaped as he stumbled forward, his vision growing blurry. 

“How?” he repeated.

“We were able to salvage the body,” Alex said, his voice soft as Reggie carefully took the instrument from Luke’s hands, holding it like it was holy, because it  _ was _ . “ And, putting our money together, along with the tips we’ve gathered over the past few months… we were able to get a repair guy to fix it up with a neck of the same model. He even buffed out the few scratches that were on the body.”

Reggie’s head shot up. “Wait, the tips? Wait, wait…” he said, shaking his head as tears finally fell, dripping onto the bass. “But we were saving up to make the demo! And you guys, that’s  _ your  _ money, you shouldn’t’ve-”

“It’s our money, so we get to decide how to spend it,” Bobby corrected. “And you absolutely deserve it, man.”

“But… but the demo…”

“Can’t exactly have a demo without our bass player, huh?” Luke teased, stepping closer. When Reggie simply shook his head again, Luke’s face turned even gentler, more serious. “Reg. This is  _ yours. _ Music is a part of you, and seeing you without it was  _ wrong. _ The three of us seriously talked about this, and if we’ve gotta wait a few more months to make a demo, we’ll gladly wait. Hell, we’d wait a few more  _ years, _ dude. No gig, no demo, no nothing is worth more than you getting to be happy.”

Reggie sniffled, and it came out like a snort and it was loud and gross, but he didn’t care because  _ he loved his friends so much. _ More tiny little puddles appeared on the surface of the bass, and he swiped at them before wiping at his face, a little gasp escaping as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Thank you, guys,  _ thank you,” _ he sobbed, bringing the bass to his chest and cradling it against his heart.  _ “Thank you.” _

A chorus of ‘of courses’ sounded around him while he cried, and he felt warm hands touching his arms, shoulder, and back, which just made him cry  _ more. _

“Can we hug?” he finally managed to get out after he finally managed to gather himself.

The boys hesitated. “But your stomach-” Alex started, concern lacing his voice.

“Who  _ cares, _ give me a  _ hug!” _ Reggie interrupted, before turning around and placing the bass on the coffee table. Once he did, he spun back around and threw his arms open wide, making grabby hands. “ _ Please. _ ”

The boys looked at each other, barely leaning forward as they smiled, before they all finally launched towards him, and then Reggie was in a bear hug from three sides, and it was the best. It was the  _ best, _ and he loved them so, so, so much.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos + comments! 
> 
> My tumblr is gaystreetsmarts if you want to follow me there! I blog about JATP and other silly things, and sometimes I post writing or art.


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